


the joy of depreciation

by orphan_account



Category: Rocky Horror Picture Show, The Rocky Horror Show - O'Brien
Genre: Buttplugs, Crossdressing, F/M, Horny Frank, Humiliation kink, Insult Kink, Insults, Masturbation, References to Religion, Smoking, frank as a priest, holy man in lingerie, lots o’ smut in later chapters, me not understanding how church works, prequel to film, rude thot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-15
Updated: 2018-10-15
Packaged: 2019-08-02 18:40:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16310600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Frank Furter’s eventual plan of ensnaring Brad and Janet had to begin somewhere. It just so happens to begin in a run down church in Denton. And it just so happens that this specific church belongs to a rude, arrogant and snarky girl who constantly throws out insults. Frank should want her dead, however the constant humiliation triggers a deep seated lust within him that’s getting harder to ignore.





	1. Chapter 1

The little white church sat contently amongs the scratchy, patchy grass and the dull, moss covered headstones. The sky was a dreary shade of grey and fit nicely with its vibe; calm and somber.

Frank stood in the middle of the dirt path, feebly looking around at the slow swaying trees and yellow, dead patches of grass, clearly where people stood repeatedly over loved ones place of rest. As his eyes drifted across the scenery, he almost flinched at a large sign that read: “Denton, The Home Of Happiness” in front of a jarringly bright heart. It looked obscene compared to the rest of the area, it stood out and he couldn’t help but stare.

There was something sweet about the area, Frank couldn’t place it. Maybe it was the way the gravel and dirt crunched under his feet as he slowly approached the sanctuary, the place he would spend a lot of his time from now on. Or maybe it was that the closer he got, the less daunting the building became, with its large wooden door and muddy green handrails. He wasn’t sure, but he did know he would have to get used to it if he wanted to complete his eventual goal.

A fake facade can only get you so far, Frank knew this, but a good one could last a long time, and this was what he relied on. He heavily depended on time. Frank N. Furter knew that he would eventually be found out to be a sinner, a liar and a harlot, but Frank Fogarty was none of those, and that’s why he went by that alias. Fogarty was a clean man who had recently moved into the area, and was looking for a job as a clergyman. A devout Christian who would never even consider thinking about dressing in the finest stockings and tight lingerie, with loose, frizzy curls decorating his dark hair. No, Frank Fogarty would never, and so, with this new identity, he marched up to the great wooden doors, eager to start this new pretence.

Behind the mighty wooden doors ,that creaked awfully when he swung them open, lay a bland interior. Frank didn’t really know what he had expected, it was a calm place of worship after all. As he ventured in further he skimmed the event boards by the entrance, since they were the most interesting things in his range of sight. They only homed two pieces of paper: one about a prayer group, and the other that announced the next lucky couple to be married there.

He stepped further along the red, thin carpet that lay in between two rows of dark coloured pews. A beam of light shone down from a circular window directly in front of him and the rays decorated his black, pointed shoes, that matched his, what he considered, horrendous get-up: long black robes that hid his curves, which he would normally love to show off, a white neck piece which hurt him if he turned to the side, and a clean face scraped free of any makeup or residue.

Frank was awoken from his daze, once he noticed how loud his footsteps echoed throughout the almost silent building. The sound was so eerie. If anyone had been in there they surely would have been made aware of his presence.

“Sorry honey you’re not here for another 3 hours,” A woman’s voice spoke out. It was gritty and quite rude, had he have been the person she assumed he was, he would have been offended. The sudden noise took Frank by surprise and he quickly sprung to attention, looking for the source.

“I’m actually here about the job as a clergyman,” he spoke. The sound of his voice lightly echoed in the air so he could hear how he sounded nothing like himself.

The unknown woman made a soft “oh” sound of realisation before he heard the shuffling of shoes on hard wood and the creak of a chair. Frank finally rounded the corner of the entrance expecting to see a nice looking woman greet him. Instead, he saw a younger girl sauntering over, with shoulder length, brown, unkept hair and a disinterested look about her. He almost felt himself scoff at her tattered clothing: old, dulled jeans pulled up further than they needed to be, a shirt that was probably white at some point but was an unpleasant shade of grey now, and a dusty green cardigan he swore he could’ve seen his grandmother wearing. She was far much more than inferior to him, it almost made him laugh. He had to remind himself that Frank Fogarty didn’t believe he was above anyone, he was a simple man, and so he kept his mouth shut.

Her brows sat low on her face as she assessed the man’s appearance. His hair was sort of long, dark and done so that he had a parting that was off-centre. He looked down on her due to his tremendous height, with the most dazzling brown eyes. She concluded, after her assessment, that she found him attractive.

“Let me see your qualifications,” She muttered lukewarmly holding out a hand. Frank then fumbled with a brown bag, which he hated, that was by hung side and pulled out a couple of documents. He went to hand them to her tenderly, but once they were within the girl’s sight, she snatched them from him. Not expecting this, Frank clenched his hand shut to try and avoid possibly hitting her for her impoliteness.

He inhaled before saying: “I believe we spoke over the telephone? I’m Frank Fogarty,” he held out his hand “how do you do?” The name felt so new and exciting to say. It rolled off his tongue so perfectly, despite the fact his brain was telling him _“that’s not who you are.”_

The girl scanned the four pieces of paper he had handed her: a list previous churches Mr Fogarty had worked at, prints of his degrees in Biblical studies and Preaching, and proof that he was ordained. Frank still had no idea how Riffraff had done them, but he would be sure to thank him as soon as he returned to his beautiful new castle.

After a few seconds of silence and reading, the woman gazed back up at Frank and took his hand in her’s. Her grip was stronger than he had anticipated, yet still felt uncaring.

“Nice to meet you, Father,” She handed him back the files, “I’m Rachel.”

 _Randy_ he heard back, in his head, as though instinctively. He clasped the paper in his hand once he retrieved it from her grip, looking down at it in an attempt not to smirk. The name Randy would suit her face so much better, he also wouldn’t mind seeing her utterly fucked just like a porn star of the same name, maybe then she wouldn’t be so ill-mannered, but that was something else entirely.

“Everything that needs to be done is being done by the reverend for today. He’ll unfortunately be leaving us soon,” she informed him, “You’ll begin tomorrow with a service at ten.”

A warm smile graced his lips. “Thank you,” he thanked in a tone so kind, the niceness in it surprised himself.

Frank was already satisfied with this short life he would live. The thought of being a priest, influencing those below him and them believing whatever he said wholeheartedly, made him tingle with glee. He repressed that feeling down a bit, when he met with Randy’s stare again so that she wouldn’t be alarmed.

Taking the short silence as a queue to leave, Frank abruptly straightened up and made his way to the exit, his footsteps muffled by the sober, red carpet.

“I don’t know why you came today, fucking idiot”

It was said quietly, as thought she said it to herself, but there was no doubt about it that he had heard that remark. It hit him right at the bottom of his spine and made him flush red. Although, was this red flush one of rage? Usually, when he was angry, he could feel heat bubble in his chest, begging to be released. Now, he instead felt that same heat drop a lot lower and cause an unpleasant tingling to spark in his gut. A feeling so familiar.

Ignoring that thought and pressing it down, he continued onwards, once he realised he had been stopped in his tracks. He strode forwards, until his feet hit hard wood and the sound of footsteps began to echo again. He had reached the great door and swiftly made his departure with dull arousal burning the bottom of his stomach.


	2. Chapter 2

All of the elderly women, men and small, four person families stood up for a last hymn to end the service. Frank had to admit, they had been an adoring crowd, despite the fact that the ratty boy on the third row was out of key. He decided to ignore this and try to work with his new followers, even though the child’s voice cracking at random point of Amazing Grace drilled dreadfully into his ears. He obviously took the leading role in the last song, To God Be The Glory, since he was clearly the most vocally gifted. The cluster of inferiors all began to drone on with their tone deaf noises. It was clear that some of them were excited to get going. 

 

“That concludes our service for today,” Frank declared after they had flatly finished the hymn. He was met with a few seconds of silence, and then a loud murmur of a collection of voices, all sounding different from and not meshing well. 

 

These were the culmination of God’s love. A collection of people who had decided to trust in the Lord enough to spend a few hours of their Sunday listening to an unknown man preach for a good few hours. The prospect bewildered him.

 

“Father Fogarty,” a withered voice called out from the side of him.

 

“Frank is just fine,” he said with a smile without even catching a glimpse of who had said it. He had really gotten into the character of Frank Fogarty, and he was loving it. There were two old women with wrinkled faces, but they had a kind glint in their eyes. The kind which could melt a human’s heart.

 

“We just wanted to say how good you’ve been today. We’ve been coming here for however many years and it has always been Reverend Matthew. Well, when our old Rach told us he was retiring we almost had a heart attack,” the two stopped to laugh momentarily and Frank gave them a slight smile in return. The other one added: “But you have a lot of flare and I can’t wait to be seeing you next week.”

 

“Why bless you, ladies,” he said with a polite tone and a kind hearted smile.

 

He concluded that he was going to enjoy this facade, if this was all there was too it, he could keep this up, but if those damned women took another step closer to him he would be able to smell the old cigarettes and dust on their breath.

 

After placing his bible in the brown bag he despised and the room has been emptied, he realised that he was dying for a cigarette. He looked into the box and found two fags waiting just for him, along with his little black lighter. He flicked it on for good measure, watching the small flame flicker as he softly breathed onto it.

 

“You going somewhere?”

 

There was that voice again. The voice thatgot into his head so much and broke it down from the inside out. Tht monotone, dull voice.

 

“Out for a smoke,” he paused “if that’s alright with you?”

 

Randy rounded the corner putting on a tweed coat. She held out a little rolled cigarette she dug out her pocket.

 

“You got a lighter?”

Frank nodded showing off his trusty black light. He wasn’t the sort of man to put his feelings on to possessions, but the way the metal glinted when it sparked gave him a strange sense of happiness. She simply nodded and made for the door, shortly followed by himself.

 

The outside breeze was cool and made him shiver upon impact. It was a cold Autumn day and he was glad he had put on a long, black coat before he left. There wasn’t a soul insight, just the trees and grass all blowing in unison with the wind. It was calm and quiet, nothing that Frank was used to. Not in his castle or in Transylvania would he get more than a minutes peace, not that he didn’t like it that way. That was what he was raised to except, that if there was at any point where any conversation had lulled or there was a dip in noise, someone would shout or sing or do something else that would damage his ear drums.He had to admit, Frank missed his home.

 

Just as he was taking in the little details of the surroundings, like the way the writing was indented on the headstones and collected a lot of moss and dirt, or the way the leaves were beginning to change and fall, he heard a soft impatient trudge by the side of him, and saw Randy standing there with the fag hanging out her mouth obnoxiously.

 

“Could you give me a light please,” her tone wasn’t that far off polite, he appreciated the effort.

 

“Of course,” he said striding dangerously close to her and pulling their faces together. He reached for his lighter and flicked it so that the little flame began to slowly dance. The end glowed red momentarily before being blown out by a gust of cold air. Knowing the wind would thwart any other efforts, he put a hand up to her face, shielding the cigarette from the breeze. If he were to move in any way, his hand would caress her cheeks that were red from the cold, so he stayed perfectly still.

 

After a few sparks, it finally lit and he pulled away abruptly as to not cause any more tension that was quickly being built between them. The fag smoked angrily, and not before too long, he was hit with a foul smell that was all too familiar to him. One that burnt his eyes and his nostrils, but brought back good times nonetheless.

 

“I’m assuming that’s not tobacco,” he chuckled putting his own in his mouth and beginning in his attempt to light it.

 

“For some reason I thought you wouldn’t notice,” she admitted clearly now realising that it was a foolish thing to assume. There was a shared silence whilst Frank took a long inhale that burnt his throat and lungs.

“You promise you won’t tell god?”

 

He laughed lightly. “I don’t believe there’s a passage that says “smoking dope is a sin.” I’m not object to a lot of things as long as they make you happy and, of course, aren’t anything too bad. So go ahead and swear, smoke and drink. There’s nothing wrong with giving yourself over to pleasure.”

 

Randy seemed to be engrossed with what he was saying just at the point he realised he was rambling. She looked him up and down for a second.

 

“How inspirational,” she said in a mocking tone that annoyed Frank seeing as though she was thoroughly interested in what he was saying.

 

Another short moment of silence. Frank couldn’t decide whether he could see his breath or he was still exhaling smoke. It had become a bit more chilly over the course of their break and Frank made sure to pull his coat further around himself. In that moment, it was so calm.

 

“Are you religious?” He asked out of curiosity. He didn’t think she was the type, even though she worked at a church, but he thought he’d find out for sure. She hesitated to answer at first.

 

“I don’t know. I guess I only think about it when my mortality it questioned,” she answered, more honestly than he thought she would. Randy was obviously afraid of the beyond, and like most humans, only considered the existence of a God when it benefits them.

 

“Don’t we all,” Frank muttered under his breath as he dropped his cigarette and stomped it into the dust and dirt that collected in the air the more his boot scraped against the ground. He glanced back up at Randy who still had half a blunt to get through.

 

“I’m going back inside now,” he announced, pulling his coat up a bit and turning to trudge towards the entrance.

Randy was left alone to question whether she truly believed there is a higher power, and why she found that man so intriguing.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i don’t know if i pointed out the fact that i know hardly anything about the way churches are run and everything i wrote was down to tiny it’s of research. Anyway this was chapter 2 it’s pretty dialogue heavy and I don’t enjoy writing that. if you wanna leave a comment please do so because a bitch loooves criticism/ validation x


	3. Chapter 3

 

Arriving home after a long day of work was a pleasant gift for humans. Trudging back to their house in cold weather, or being crammed of a bus full of sweaty people who breathed hot air into their faces, after a day of crunching numbers and taking statistics sounded like hell to Frank. However, he had to admit, returning to his glamorous castle in the middle of the cold night from the sanctuary was a blessing.

 

“How was your day, Master?” Riffraff asked as he forcefully grabbed the black coat off of Frank’s shoulders. He had clearly learnt nothing of human politeness since being there.

 

“Fine, thanks,” Frank fingered the black handrail of his majestic stairs, staring at it intensely. The paint was beginning to peel. “I’ll be in my room. Do whatever you to do when I’m not here,” he declared waving his hand dismissively, then turning his back on the handyman, and beginning to stroll up the steps.

 

“As you wish, Master,” the freaky looking man said in a glum tone, sauntering off into a different room, presumably to find Magenta. Frank took no notice and continued upwards.

 

Not hearing the familiar clicking of his heels against the corridor carpet was  strange to Frank. It felt as though a piece of him was missing. Even being covered up so well was strange. The feeling of the soft material of his attire rubbing against his thighs made him cringe, as usually there was nothing there. The sensation was foreign. Even though he was dressed decently, he felt so naked without a face of makeup. Being out in public without it did make him slightly self conscious, but nothing he couldn’t deal with.

 

Frank swung the large door of his room open to be greeted with the familiar sight of his sizeable bed, with blankets made of purple satin that felt like heaven against his bare skin.

 

He discarded his bag behind the wooden door and began to remove his black robes, starting with the white neck piece. His neck hitting the air and no longer being constricted was a blissful feeling. He placed it neatly on his bed side table next to a little box containing his makeup.

 

Next, he removed his long robes revealing only black, lacy underwear that had see-through patterns running up and down the sides of them but stopping that the crotch, where there was an opaque black material to stop anything too risqué from showing. They hugged him nicely and he couldn’t help but stare at himself in the mirror looking up and down every feature of his flawless figure. The only “flaw” being his tattoo which only added to his character and decorated his skin. Frank missed his fishnet stockings, his legs looked far too bare without them, so he went on a search through his draws to find them.

 

Scurrying around, he eventually found them screwed up at the surface of his top draw. Frank lay on his bed and began to slowly roll the stocking over his left foot appreciating how it looked the further up his leg it got. He cursed faintly as he saw another hole had been ripped in them somehow.

 

He absentmindedly sang under his breath as he worked, progressively getting louder the further the second fishnet rolled up his thigh. He clipped the garters to the bottom of his underwear. The familiar click they made brought joy to his ears.

 

Standing up once more, Frank admired his legs in the mirror, avoiding looking at his face. He wasn’t afraid to admit that he found himself utterly breathtaking, he relished in it. He laughed quietly with a wide grin as he turned his broad legs in different positions to get a better look at himself.

 

Frank took one last, good look at himself, before flopping down onto his sheets, that caressed his skin tenderly. Running a hand against the top sheet feeling the material intimately, he smiled to himself and let his mind wonder. He couldn’t wait for tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> an excuse to write about frank’s thighs :)


	4. Chapter 4

>  

The day had been bland and uneventful, Frank liked it that way. He had finished his service in good time and spend the little freedom he had idly looking out of the stained window, through the colourless glass of Saint Joan of arc’s breast.

Orange leaves, fresh and dry, had collected in the corners of the glass and often flew by in the Autumn wind. He followed them with his eyes whilst he also appreciated how the sun shone rays of light on the rich colours.

 

Interrupting the pleasant silence, a distant telephone began blaring for a couple rings before it was picked up, making Frank start and lose his lack of concentration.

 

“Hello?” Randy’s voice answered. Frank decided to listen in out of curiosity, and the fact that he was unaware there even was a telephone there beforehand.

 

“It should be possible however there’s only one priest, father Fogarty, here at the moment. I’ll go get him for you, please wait,” the sound of the girl springing to her feet and lightly jogging informed Frank that they would have their first interaction of the day.

 

“What the fuck are you doing?” A hushed voice asked, one that a mother might use when her child is misbehaving in public. Frank realised he’d been staring directly at the great saint’s breasts and understood that it would look more than odd to an onlooker.

 

The abrasive, whispered tone made his insides lightly stir, but nothing he wasn’t in control of. He couldn’t help but be slightly aroused every time she unintentionally mocked his delusions of being a superior being, making him feel less of a God-like man. He shortly reminisced back to yesterday, when she was locking the outer door and he had decided to help. The great door had slammed into his hand, all thanks to her. The throbbing pain spread quickly through his hand and fingers, becoming unbearable, however, the new knowledge that she had the power to cause him physical pain caused his mind to wonder to other scenarios in which that would be at his benefit.

 

“Did I catch something?” She had asked. He remembered simply shaking his head and wishing her good night.

 

Frank shifted back into reality as Randy informed him a funeral home had called.

 

Frank reached out for the telephone, once he was in the small room Randy had claimed for herself off to the side of the pews, and pressed the cold plastic against his face and ear.

 

“Hello, this is Father Fogarty speaking.”

 

“Good morning, Father, a family has, not too long ago, requested a funeral at your church. Would you be able to carry this out on Wednesday the twentieth of this month?”

 

Frank had nothing better to do, so why not? It wasn’t as though he could say no.

The bluntness in the man’s voice and the assumption that Frank would immediately do it left an unpleasant taste in his mouth, however, and he was tempted to hang up there and then.

 

“Yes, I can, my schedule is quite clear that day.”

 

“Ah, perfect. We will send over information shortly, once we’ve notified the family.”

 

They both exchanged a short goodbye before he rested the phone on its hook again, with a deep exhale of slight annoyance. It must be hard working in a job with so much death, at least at the church he could experience and be a part of the beginning of life, and the joining of two, not just the ending.

 

Frank glanced up at Randy who was staring pretty intensely at him from where he had previously been sitting.

 

“The twentieth,” he called out as though he could read her mind. There was a pause between them, an unpleasant silence.

 

“The twentieth,” he heard faintly repeated back to him in a quiet voice.


	5. Chapter 5

Frank stood outside in the cold, slightly shivering in his long black coat. He absentmindedly crunched dry leaves beneath his boots taking a long inhale of his cigarette. Being outdoors was strangely comforting for him. It was easy to lose himself and become thoughtless in the calmness. He didn’t like going out of his castle for long periods of time, he actually found the experiences rather unpleasant, but being away from the bland colours of the inside of the church was nice.

 

The pleasantness of his alone time was quickly shattered when he heard a sudden slam behind him, making him start, and the figure of a short woman approached him. Rachel fumbled in thepocket of her large cardigan, the scratchy looking material made Frank cringe, and pulled out a dreary looking cigarette.

 

“Got a light?” she asked just like before. Clearly, she hadn’t considered investing in one of her own.

 

Frank smiled with his fag balancing between his lips, pulling out his little black lighter from his pocket. Randy put the cigarette to her lips and he stood close to her, their faces close to parallel. She could feel his warm breath on her face along with a gentle puff of smoke with every exhale.

 

The sadly rolled fag lit after a few tries and began smoking.

 

“Tobacco?” he questioned when he wasn’t hit by an immediate unpleasant smell. She simply nodded with a slight smirk.

 

“Where are you from? Your accent is quite hypnotic,” she smiled glancing at him.

 

All the knowledge Frank had obtained of Earth suddenly fled from him. What was his accent like? His mind raced back and forth quickly trying to come up with an answer.

 

“London,” he answered abruptly. That was correct wasn’t it?

 

“That’s cool.” Frank sighed in relief, exhaling the toxic smoke from his lungs.

 

“Where do you live then?” Randy asked looking back over to him briefly.

 

“Do you know,” he hesitated “the castle, not too far from here?”

 

“Frankenstein Place?” He nodded. There was a moment of awkward silence. Clearly, she was confused.

 

“I live there,” he added so that she would finally understand.

 

“You live in the castle?” That was what he just said. Frank didn’t understand what was so hard to grasp.

 

“Yes”

 

There was another moment of utter silence, and Frank began to wish he hadn’t of shared that information. Thankfully, Randy began to speak again:

 

“No offence intended but that’s pretty fucking weird,” she gazed deeply into his eyes “There’s something about you, Father, that creeps me out to no end. You’re so close to being human but something is off, I can’t put my finger on it.Something is ever so slightly inhuman”

 

Frank bit his tongue hard. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt as though he couldn’t trust himself not to do something. Not only did the sharp pain in his tongue sting, but he also had to deal with a sudden rush of arousal.

 

“That’s just me I’m afraid,” he answered sternly.

It looked as though, as soon as he responded, Rachel suddenly understood what she had said and felt guilty.

 

“Sorry,” she mumbled looking away “I didn’t mean to be rude. I’m always like this. Please don’t take it personally.”

 

“Don’t worry,” Frank smiled “I understand.” He didn’t actually understand anything. She was only playing the victim card because she spoke out of line. There was nothing to understand.

 

However he couldn’t ignore the slow rising lust throughout his gut. Randy really did think nothing more of him than a weird, creepy man. She really thought he was lower than her. The thought of being perceived as almost nothing by her made something inside of Frank light up.

 

“I’m going back inside now.”

 

Frank simply nodded as he watched her crush her fag beneath her black shoe, smile once more, and walk off. He takes one last shaky inhale of his cigarette, his hands slightly juddering the butt against his lips as he deeply breathed the smoke into him, heat plaguing his body. He’d have to deal with that later.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this fanfic was written way better at the beginning and now it’s pretty bad ngl. I will finish it but I can’t promise the quality will be anything that spectacular yikes.


	6. Chapter 6

The dark night chill hit Frank’s skin hard and made him shiver, the unpleasant feeling made him tense and agitated. It was later in the day now, he was standing at the door of his castle under the black sky waiting for Riffraff to show some decency and answer the door. He stood subtly shaking for what felt like an eternity. Frank wanted nothing more but to come home and relieve his stress in the best way he knew how, but his damned handyman refused to open up.

Eventually, the lock from the inside of the door juddered and it swung open, creaking obscenely. The man on the other side stood with a sly grin and slight rose tint to his pale, grotesque complexion. Frank noticed the dark maroon smudges around his lips and neck, and the way the buttons on his shirt didn’t align to the corresponding holes.

“If you’ve been using the bed in the lab with Magenta again I won’t hesitate to whip you senseless,” Frank threatened, pushing past him and walking in.

“It’s been out of commission for a while now so if you’re saving it for Rocky you’re going to have to wait. I seem to have come across an error with his torso which may set us back,” Riffraff responded flatly yet still plastered in a greasy  
smile.

“I’ll take a look after, but right now I’m going to my room,” he had handed his long coat to Riffraff and began mounting the staircase “Stay out of the bed.”

“Yes master,” he responded, however Frank seriously doubted he would actually do as he requested.

The moment he entered his room he was taking off his clothing, desperate to get into something that actually turned him on when he looked at himself. He removed his robes quite quickly and stood in his lacy underwear for a minute considering what his next move was. Being without his garters and stockings would feel odd whilst masturbating so he decided to look for them.

Frank considered himself a sexual man, obviously. He was constantly thinking about sex or jerking off, but as of recent he had gotten bored of being handed it on a silver platter. He was never too far away from a good fuck, he had multiple people drooling at his feet more than willing to show him a good time. However, he found out he liked to earn it so that he truly deserved it. A predator’s meal is always better once they hunt the prey for themselves. This was the reason he hadn’t seen anyone lately because, as odd as it sounds, he was fed up of simply lying there.

Frank now stood in high fishnets that hugged the top of his thighs hard, and a set of black high heels he just wanted to put on for moral support. He was absolutely stunning, he wasn’t ashamed to admit that if he looked at himself hard enough, sometimes he would become aroused.

Frank began to get slightly horny just from his appearance. He felt as though he’d have a greater impact if he was wearing makeup, but he was getting impatient.

The full length mirror that sat next to his door was brought closer to his bed so that he could watch his every movement. He lay in his silk bed, his body bathed by the blissful feeling of the sheets, and let his right hand work his cock as he stared at himself intensely in the mirror. If he was quiet enough he could hear the sounds of Riffraff and Magenta from a distant part of the castle. This wasn’t about them, this was about his pleasure, so he tried his best to block them out.

After a while of working himself and some erotic imagery he conjured in his mind, he had a proud erection residing within his feminine panties. He could only pull them down half way due to his fishnets, but the lace of his underwear and of his garter really complemented his blushing cock. He decided to ignore how repulsive it was, and spat into his palm and worked the slick around the rest of his hand. The dull throb of his dick compelled him to begin stroking at a moderate pace. He watched himself work in the mirror fascinated by his movements slowly increasing overtime.

He used his free hand to fondle his balls at the same speed of his stroking, an action so sweet it made his toes curl in his heels. The sound of slick skin hitting skin rang out throughout the room, echoed by the lulled sound of Magenta and Riffraff.

Frank’s mind conjured up pictures of what he hoped Rocky would look like: blond, muscular, tanned and gorgeous. He visualised his face mostly, either between his thighs or close to his lips. He quickened his pace with a breathy noise. Rocky’s broad arms manhandling his ass and thighs as he’s being pushed hard against the wall.

Next, he thought of Magenta, but she wasn’t really doing it for him. He then tried Columbia for a while, her busty figure underneath him.

His hands were working faster now, feeling bliss coil in his stomach and his orgasm slowly approaching.

At his orgasm, Frank found himself fantasising about Rachel. She was above him, taking on a dominant role, sweating off her frankly shitty makeup. She moved with such vigour, that he mimicked with his fist. He felt that wonderfully sinful heat build in his gut, he knew he was going to cum.

His speed was now so quick he would occasionally make pitiful noises and breaths. He had realised that the mirror was now meaningless because he was using his imagination to get off, not really his reflection, as narcissistic as that sounds.

Frank found himself cumming with the image of Rachel in his mind; naked and hot. He made a grunting sound as a shot of fluid dribbled out the tip of his cock.

The muffled sound of the siblings had stopped. Everything went into a quiet fuzz and it was quite pleasant. The prospect of sleep entered his mind and felt very tempting, even though he should probably clean his sheets and move the mirror, or tomorrow he’ll give himself a nasty surprise. Without really thinking about those negatives, he pulled back the deep purple covers and sunk into to his mattress, keeping on his high heels. He’d regret that decision in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woah bb this chapter is very nsfw so be warned xx even though this is at the end xx well i hope u enjoyed

**Author's Note:**

> i’ve had this idea for a while and i’m now deciding to write it. this is my first fanfic so I don’t really know if i’m any good or not. feel also, i hate Rachel lmao i hate OC insert fix’s but like she’s not even a real OC i just wanted an excuse for frank to be horny and no characters from the show fit that mold.


End file.
